No One Survived But Him
by BarkingPup
Summary: A confession reveals things he would rather have kept hidden. Then again, no one outside of Amity was going to believe him anyways.


**Author Notes: **So, yeah, been having this plot running around in my head for a while figured I'd post it. I _really _hate this story. The plot is loopy, the dialogue shit, the writing is fucking crap... ah, well. Anyone wanna Beta it, just PM me and eat your heart out... fix iiiiiiiit!

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Trent sighed and leaned back, his chair teetering precariously. The harsh light above the metal table threw the room in stark relief. Trent noticed the person sitting across from him, it was hard not to. Barely out of turbulent teenhood yet his body was lean and powerful, every move calculated, every sense alert. Trent sensed something in the young man, a disturbing feeling he could not place.

"So." Trent flipped his chair back and steepled his hands on the table. "What made you kill him?"

Light blue eyes met his, an odd deadness in their depths. "What makes you say that?"

Trent ran a hand through his hair. "Kid, you were on the scene, covered in his blood and we found your fingerprints on the body. There is no doubt you killed him."

The young man's eyes flicked up, and Trent swore they had developed a ring of bright green. "Fingerprints?"

"Yeah, fingerprints. We compared the ones found at the scene to yours and they fit perfectly."

The young man's burning irises faded and he once more looked down at the table, disinterest- no... Trent saw something else in those eyes. The way the boy moved –as if every musculature twitch was a chore- said something Trent couldn't identify. One thing was for certain, the boy had a horrible cast to him; his skin was pallid and grey, his eyes sunken and rimmed with insomnia, and every move the boy made seemed leaden and forced.

Trent sighed. "Listen, kid, if you confess we might get you an in with the judge. You're young, probably haven't done anything wrong in your life—"

Ice blue eyes met Trent's. "I am older than you, older than everyone in this fucking building! How can you judge me when you don't even know—" He stood, looming despite his size. "—You don't even know **who** **I am**."

Trent struggled to quell his fluttering heart and opened his palms, bringing them forward in front of his face. "Hey, hey, I didn't mean anything by it. I just assumed—"

The young man sat once more, yet his eyes burned green rings. "Everyone assumes." He lapsed into silence.

Trent gave the young man a worried glance but settled into the same silent introspection. Anything to get a confession.

Several minutes passed. The boy seemed dead. Trent did not notice his chest rise and fall, nor did he witness an involuntary movement or twitch; the boy seemed immobile as a marble statue. He considered leaning over to take the boy's pulse. It may be a dangerous move but if the boy was having a silent seizure or something...

"He killed her."

Trent jumped slightly. "Uh—"

"He... he just killed her. She was... she was my **everything **and that bastard killed her."

Trent stared at the young man, certain more was to come. Indeed, the black-haired man paused then continued, every word strained.

"I-I watched her grow up, you know? Even... even when I stopped I still... heh, she would have been so mad to know I was- but I never watched her d-dress or... or anything like that." He lowered his head, ruffled hair falling into his eyes. "I saw her... get a job. Well, a lot of jobs and then she found this one- it was perfect! So perfect for her and she was so happy and that made me happy and... she met this guy. He was a real asshole... well, not at first but after they had the kid. She named her Danielle...I still don't know if it's after me or Danni."

Trent figured it was now or never and spoke up. "So you loved her?"

A long silence, the man opposite still. "Yeah... yeah I did." The young man raised blue eyes to Trent's brown. "That's why I did it, you see... My mom, my dad, even my sister all moved on. Mom and dad didn't live that long afterwards but Jazz... Jazz got a job in Psychology and just didn't care what I did. After I died she just wasn't the same- she flinched whenever I came into the room—"

"You... died?" Trent stared at the talking man before him. _What the hell?_

The young man's eyes hardened and he smiled bitterly. "Yeah. You know, I never figured I'd die. When you stop aging at eighteen it just doesn't cross your mind but I suppose the body just... gave up. I can't remember what mom said caused it... the heart rupturing or the brain shorting out... something like that..." He laughed, the sound harsh and grating. "But.. you know what? When the body dies the ghost has nowhere to go. It's tied, forever, to a lump of dead meat. I mean," He lifted his arm and stared at it. "This fucking thing doesn't actually **do **anything anymore. I have to force thickened blood through the veins to move, even stimulate those fucking neurons so the brain doesn't rot completely. The only fucking thing keeping it from falling apart is the ghost. That's it. Nothing else. Just a bunch of ectoplasm and leftover memories."

Trent raised an eyebrow. Was this kid nuts? Seriously, he thought he was dead? Sure, he was staring at his arm with disgust and Trent could admit that it certainly had an odd texture and cast to it but... dead? Well, odd psychosis aside Trent still had to get the entire story out of him.

"That's nice and all, kid, but I need to know about this guy you mauled. You said he killed some girl?"

Eyes snapped up, burning green. "She's not **some girl**. Sam was... Sam was the only thing I cared about. The only thing that still cared about me. I told you, that bastard killed her. Stabbed her in an alley, ruined her perfection. Took her from me. I repaid the favour, that's all."

"You don't feel sad or guilty that you killed someone? Ended their life? That guy had children, you know. And a wife. A dog."

The young man laughed. "Ended? Are you so sure? He could have had some strong reason to keep existing. Perhaps he's in the Ghost Zone, waiting for a portal to open so he can escape. I hope he is, I can kick his ass once more."

Trent sighed. "Uh-huh. Well, you stew on that. Do you want coffee or something?"

The young man shook his head. "I know you're just getting a cop to arrest me so it won't matter anyway."

"And if you know all that why don't you protest? Try to escape?"

He smiled. "There's no need. You won't find me."

Trent rolled his eyes. _Why do I always get the crazy ones? _Nonetheless he walked out of the enclosed room and shortly down the hallway to another door. The woman in the room glanced up.

Trent looked through the one-way glass. "So, what do you think?"

"Batfuck crazy. But he did confess."

Trent nodded. "You call that... whashisname... cop?"

"Henry? Yeah. He said he'd be on his way."

Trent opened his mouth to reply when something caught his eye. "What.. .what the FUCK?!"

The girl's head whipped around. "Wh- oh my god. This is bad."

Both ran out into the hallway and flung open the other door. The room was empty.

"How the-" Trent ran a hand through his hair. "How the hell did he escape?"

The woman's cell phone rang and she flipped it open. "The... the evidence..' She said, staring at the tiny screen. "The evidence is gone. The fingerprints... the tapes... everything."

"What?! That's... that's impossible!"

Trent could have sworn the hallway became a lot colder and, if pressed, he could have said that something brushed his arm.

Then again, that was impossible.


End file.
